To Miss Pillsbury and Mrs Schuester
by Sierra-Jae
Summary: Will writes a letter to both of his wives.


AN: This is a little one shot that may be the opening chapter to a fic I may work on after I have finished 'Change'. I'll see how everyone responds, but I have a few ideas that would be good to follow this. If there was a continuation of this story, it would not be in letter form and it would be from Emma's perspective. I hope you like it and reviews are greatly appreciated.

To Miss Pillsbury and Mrs Schuester,

I was standing by the kitchen counter last night, watching you wipe the drool from our baby's mouth, when I realised just how amazing you really are. You reached under Riley's arms to prop her up in her chair, asking our one year old why she was constantly trying to wedge herself between the tray table and the seat, and she blew bubbles from her mouth which you laughed at and placed kisses all over the top of her tiny, auburn-dusted head. And I stood there thinking, 'why is she my wife? Why is she the mother of my child?' And I remembered the old Emma, the one I fell absolutely, hopelessly in love with.

I was lying in bed last night, watching your reflection in the bathroom mirror, as I began to think about her. I thought about her cardigans, and her skirts, the way she would hold her hands before her as she made her way down a corridor, and I got to thinking- I miss her. I miss her like you miss the beginning of Fall, when Winter begins. Though suddenly, you find yourself complete and perfectly content, wrapped up in snow jackets and falling between the duvets, recognising that discovering comfort for yourself can be just as rewarding.

I often think about Emma Pillsbury, when I see you brushing your teeth by the bathroom vanity, wearing your flannel shirt, the top three buttons undone, something that I think you do on purpose, knowing that I can see your nipple in the reflection if I lower my reading glasses and draw my attention away from the parenting book I read every night. Have you noticed that I haven't moved from page 63 this past week?

The thing that gets me is that you look so much younger than the old Emma. The first night I slept with Emma Pillsbury, she never removed her makeup, and her hair was curled perfectly. I think she was afraid that I might actually see who she was. Baby, if you had looked like you did last night, as you stood before the mirror with your hair in a high ponytail and your shirt falling just below the line of your panties, I would have wondered who the girl in my arms was.

When you walk around our home, caring for our child, you look like you just finished college. And when you get ready on to go out to dinner, Emma Pillsbury, my sophisticated, other wife comes back, worrying about the baby that we left at home, in the care of my parents. So really, I do get to see her time to time, which makes me so happy. Though, I think it is wonderful for you that this new, younger Mrs Schuester has taken her place.

Emma, I don't want this letter to make you feel as though you are a different person, because you aren't. You are two variations of the same person. People say that you can't be in love with two women at the same time, but I am. I'm in love with Emma Schuester when we make love and you are above me grinning and biting your bottom lip seductively, knowing that you can take me to a place that I've never been to. I'm in love with Emma Schuester when you bite my neck hard, sucking on my pulse point, begging for me to go faster and harder, and I give in so completely. Sometimes, I am lucky enough to see Emma Pillsbury, when you're lying in my arms below me, and I'm moving inside you. Emma Pillsbury is the one who opens her wide, terrified eyes and begs me silently to hold her while she rides out the most powerful orgasm she has had in months, after we have spent the entire afternoon in bed teasing and never pleasing.

I think Emma Pillsbury would think Emma Schuester to be a little bit messy and a little bit unguarded, but mainly, I think she would be just plain jealous. I worship the ground you walk on, Emma, and I love to see you so happy with Riley, and so desperately in love with her that it makes my heart hurt in the finest way possible.

I want to make you happy for the rest of your life, and right now, I think we are the happiest we have ever been. There has and always will be a certain type of passion in our relationship that I've never seen in another, but I think that passion is learning to share its place with comfort, learning that passion itself can exist without curlers and mascara, Mary Janes and lacy panties.

And along the way, I think you have learnt this, too.

All my love,

Will.


End file.
